Catch Me
by Araven14
Summary: He wouldn’t be leaving this place. The tiled floor was to be his deathbed, the bland prison-style food his last meal.


**This failed. Just thought I'd warn you before you went and read it and got all disappointed.**

**Warnings ('cause God knows this fic needs them): Suicide, main character death, crappiness and MAJOR FAIL. If you can handle all of that, you're good to go. As to pairings... the L and Light interactions can be read as deep friendship or light slash - whatever floats your boat.**

**yeah, I don't even know where this came from. There was no real planning or anything; I just had the idea the other day and had to write it up. Ithen thought 'Hey! I could post it to fanfiction, and people can help me improve with writing depressing stuff!' So, here it is. The epic fail.**

**Death Note = too depressed to think of witty disclaimer. Not mine.**

* * *

Light had known from the instant he had picked up the death note that the object held power. There was an aura to it that he couldn't even begin to comprehend, and so he didn't try; failure was not an option to Light Yagami, and so he chose to ignore all of the little warnings his mind tried to give him, and picked up the death note.

There had been something... compelling about the small black notebook that Light didn't entirely understand, yet even he, despite all of his knowledge and wisdom had been weak and susceptible to the power the death note offered the user. To have complete control over death was a concept that both excited and terrified Light. In time, he would come to realise that even then, the death note had been luring him in with false promises of immortality, of godhood.

His mind, so pure and untainted, had been easy prey for the shinigami's tool, and after the second kill, Light Yagami was almost lost to the world. Kira had invaded his mind, and much to Light's despair, he was aware of the change...and unable to act against it.

The first murder had been an experiment; nothing more and nothing less. Though Light had not expected the death note to be authentic in the slightest, there had been a nagging insistence at the very edge of his consciousness that had begged that he try it out.

Try it out he had – a logical mind like Light's couldn't accept the possibility of a murder notebook. Having watched the man on television die, Light had immediately written off the occurrence as a coincidence; a strange, sick joke played on him by the gods. Certainly not the result of him writing down a name in a strange black notebook.

It was this state of denial that lead him to commit the second murder, and to eventually lose himself in the endless cycle of writing down more and more names, all the while desperately trying to justify his actions.

After the second killing, even Light could no longer deny that the death note was genuine, authentic. The thought terrified him; _horrified_ him, and for a short while, his mind was unable to process the fact that he had murdered two people in cold blood. Even then, he had remained in his blissful oblivion for a short while longer, unable to face the reality of exactly what he'd done; the sins he'd committed.

By the time he was once again able to process what precisely had happened, it was too late. The death note had him in its grasp, and Light was incapable of escaping; he wasn't sure that he _wanted _to escape. The death note opened up a world of opportunity and possibility that he had never before even dreamed of – all of a sudden, a crime-free world didn't seem all that far-fetched, when the power of life and death could literally be held in his hands.

Light was aware of the effects the death note had on him – objectively, he could look at himself and recognise the signs of an addiction. Rationally, he knew that the habit had to be broken before he was too far gone – yet every time he tried, it seemed that Light had already passed that stage.

When the shinigami Ryuk arrived, Light had been a little startled, but not truly surprised – for a shinigami's notebook to exist, there had to be a shinigami to go with it, right? Admittedly, the creature's personality and appearance had been unexpected, but Light had taken it in stride, as he always did.

Talking to the shinigami was certainly enlightening – Light knew much about the curse of constant boredom, and in that respect had been able to sympathise with Ryuk. Nonetheless, Light couldn't shake the feeling that the end to Ryuk's boredom had also been the end of Light's sanity and life. Had anyone ever asked him about it, he wouldn't have been able to explain himself – it was just a sixth sense that he couldn't seem to shake, even when he heard his own mouth spouting nonsense about the 'God of the new world'.

In his defence, Light had never wished to be a god or anything of the sort; all he had ever wanted was an end to the eternal boredom he seemed to be faced with and a way to heal the rotting world. For a time, the death note seemed to be the solution to both of his problems.

Eventually though, even Light could see precisely how far he had fallen. He could see the destruction and terror inflicted by the death note, instead of looking past it to the hope and trust that was still held by the Kira supporters. The Kira supporters – ha! As if Light's ego had needed boosting, he now had those who praised and worshipped him like the God he would never become.

Light was not God. Kira was not God. Light knew that, had always known that; as had L.

Which was why Light was prepared to finally put his plan into action.

* * *

**Light Yagami, solitary confinement: day nine.**

Light's shoulders ached and his wrists burned where the handcuffs had rubbed his skin raw. His fingers till twitched almost constantly, begging to be released and allowed to wield a pen and the death note once more. He had already accepted the eventual outcome of this plan; though Ryuk and L had never mentioned it, he was sure that they too knew instinctively. Light wouldn't be leaving this place. The tiled floor was to be his deathbed, the bland prison-style food his last meal.

It was a fact they all recognised but refused to acknowledge. Light was terrified of dying, but the thought of Kira, the possibility that he might become Kira again was far worse than any fear of death he possessed. Ryuk simply didn't want to be bored again, and as for L...

Light couldn't decipher the detective's thoughts, no matter how he tried. He had tried to unravel the complex thought processes numerous times, both from the perspective of Kira and of Light Yagami – each time he had failed dismally. Light liked to think that the detective would miss him when he died – he had called Light his first ever friend, and though it had most probably been another test designed to provoke a reaction, Light would have liked to have thought that maybe there was a sliver of truth in the statement now, now that they knew one another.

As L repeatedly told him, all signs of Kira had simply vanished ever since he had been confined – Light didn't L to tell him that. It was obvious that if he wasn't writing down the names of criminals then no criminals would be dying. L pushed him to confess, said the evidence against him kept building, yet Light refused. He wanted his death to be at a time of his choosing, on his own terms. It would be the last decision he ever made, the last thing in his life he could control, and he wouldn't let anyone – even L – take that from him.

The plan Light had forged was a simple one, yet he hoped that it would prove to be effective in the way that only the most thought-out, simple plans can be.

Now, there was nothing left to do but wait.

* * *

**Light Yagami, solitary confinement; day fourteen.**

Light breathed slowly, in and then out, before repeating the same monotonous pattern that his body had been performing without thought every single day of his life. This was it. His last day alive on this Earth. Light knew exactly what awaited him when he crossed the boundary into death, but now, so close he could almost _feel_ it pressing on him, he didn't feel afraid any longer. Instead, he felt a sense of great relief – no longer would be forced to carry the deaths of thousands upon his conscience. No longer would he be forced into these twisted, complex mind games, both with L and with the notebook itself.

Light had driven himself to the point where he could no longer physically bring himself to write the name of another human if he had wanted to. Every night, he relived every name he had ever written, trying to imagine each face and wonder as to the sort of life each had lead, before he had cut it short. To even _think_ of making himself do that once again was enough to make him almost physically sick.

Soon, he wouldn't have to worry about that any longer. He would be trapped within Mu, inside blissful nothingness, where he would not be made to live with his sins. Death would be a welcome blessing after this; after fourteen days with nothing to do but contemplate his own flawed morals and his own fragile mortality.

Nothing to do but pray for the death that would be coming soon.

It had taken days for the effects – both mental and physical – of the death note to finally subside. His body had shook, and he thought that maybe he had screamed for a while – L wouldn't tell him, though even the detective had commented on how similar his behaviour was to withdrawal symptoms. Days had passed before Light had stopped shaking and finally regained the use of his vocal cords. Even then, Light hadn't dared to make his request, too afraid that once he held the notebook in his hands once again then Kira would rear his ugly head within Light's mind, and continue with his quest for ultimate power over the human race.

Every breath seemed a little more strained, sounded a little louder in his ears. Each beat of his heart was faster, more frantic as though it could sense that it would soon be stopping. He could feel the blood that surged through his veins; it seemed as though now, just before his death, his entire body had woken and come alive, desperate for this final chance at life.

Light wouldn't grant it. He wasn't that cruel.

Brown eyes squeezed shut as Light drew one more steadying breath. The eyes opened, and they shone with a new, firm determination.

"Ryuk? I'm ready."

"Hyuk, hyuk. You sure?" The shinigami laughed, body twisted after two weeks of apple deprivation. He looked at Light through wide eyes, head tipped upside-down.

"Yes, I'm sure," Light whispered, his eyes closing again of their own violation.

"... Light? Are you... feeling alright?" The tinny voice sounded over the speaker, reminding Light that he had an audience. Slowly, Light opened his eyes to gaze blankly at the small camera placed directly in front of him. He smiled wearily, ready to show L the truth of the Kira case.

"I win, L. This is it. I've finally won," Light murmured, the smile on his face far more genuine when he felt the handcuffs snap behind him. Awkwardly, Light pulled himself into a sitting position, his muscles weak after such a long period of forced inactivity. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he saw that the edges of the broken links were sharp and jagged – ideal.

"Here ya go," Ryuk laughed, dropping his own personal notebook to the floor; Light still had no idea as to how he had managed to convince Ryuk to go along with this – literally – suicidal plan.

Hesitantly, tentatively, Light stretched out a hand to touch the cover of the death note, and for a brief, stunning moment everything came rushing back to him – the sense of power, of _satisfaction_ that came with writing down a name and knowing that in forty seconds that person would be dead. Shivers ran down his spine, and Light felt a single tear roll down his cheek before he gathered himself once again.

He needed to hurry. It wouldn't take the task force a long time to figure out what he was doing, and he had to make sure that this worked. Flipping the death note to a blank page, Light sighed quietly at the familiar sight.

The sensation of the broken chain tearing the skin on his finger was vaguely painful, but Light didn't really notice. He had been numb for a very long time now; he wondered if he would notice any difference when he died and his soul was sent to Mu. Blood seeped from the wound, running down his hand in tiny rivers, and the colour was so vivid and beautiful, that Light wished he could just sit and watch it for a while.

He didn't hesitate now. Using his finger as the pen and his blood as the ink, Light carefully printed the kanji across the page in striking red. The contrast between the stark white page and the burning red blood was captivating, and Light felt that small smile once again grace his face. The death note slipped from his hands, falling to the floor with a soft _thud_.

_40._

"Light!" Hearing his name called, Light glanced up, smiling tiredly when he saw L rushing into the room. He flopped back to the floor, a weak laugh slipping past his lips. Hands gripped his shoulders, dragging him into an upright position, and Light let them support him completely, exhausted.

_37._

"Not long to go," Light whispered to L, as though imparting a great secret upon the detective. The furious man shook him roughly, and Light let him, head lolling back and forth, that strange out-of-place smile still painted on his face.

_34._

"Until what?" L shouted, and it was then that Light saw the truth – L wasn't furious, he was _scared_. Ha! The great detective L was scared of little old him.

_30._

"He'll die," Light laughed. "I wrote it down, and now he'll die, with me!"

_26._

"Who will?" L asked urgently. "What do you mean you wrote it down?"

"The human whose name is written in this notebook will die," Light laughed; L deserved to know this. "When I die, Kira dies with me!" He slumped against L, laughing breathlessly.

_19._

L must have realised what Light was talking about, because Light suddenly felt two arms encircle his torso, holding him tight against L's slender figure – a distant part of Light was surprised that L was strong enough to support them both, before the thought flitted from his mind.

"Change it!" L whispered in his ear. Light kept laughing, tears now streaming down his face as he felt the first twinges in his chest beginning.

_14._

Light thought that it was strange, that after so long of living with the ache in his heart, that it should finally stop hurting now that he was mere seconds from his death.

"I can't," he muttered, his eyes sliding closed as he rested his head on L's shoulder. He felt L's arms tighten around him briefly, momentarily.

_12._

"Catch me. Don't let me fall," Light whispered brokenly to his friend, his body shaking now as his end ticked ever closer. All through his chest, he could feel the beginnings of the heart attack and knew that there wasn't long to wait.

_9._

"I won't leave you," L promised, grasping one of Light's hands and locking their fingers together in a desperate attempt to keep his friend by his side. Light weakly squeezed L's hand in return.

_6._

_I did it._

_5._

_I've won._

_4._

_When I die..._

_3._

_...he dies._

_2._

_Don't let me fall._

_1._

"_L_..."

_0._

* * *

**Okay, that was incredibly depressing. And crappy. Musn't forget crappy. In my defence, I don't usually write really sad stories, so if this failed to make you feel emotion, I'm sorry. **

**Critique will be welcomed with open arms and party-poppers.**


End file.
